


Last of the Season

by DeepDisiresLonging



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Farmer's Market, Oral Sex, Smut, smutty food puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 20:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20712011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepDisiresLonging/pseuds/DeepDisiresLonging
Summary: Sam drags Team Free Will to a farmer’s market. The reader finds a way to keep Dean from complaining the whole day, teasing him until she gets rewarded for it.





	Last of the Season

Dean was grumbling before he pulled into the parking lot. Not only had Sam made everyone come out for some fresh air (“We’re all going stir crazy, Dean! Come on.”) but Dean had to drive too. That was partially his fault. “Keep your grubby-organic hands off my steering wheel,” is what you’re pretty sure you heard.

You, on the other hand, were almost as excited as Sam. It was getting to be the best part of the year for autumn produce. Cute pumpkins, cider, blackberries, apples, and the last of the summer delights. As much as you wanted to keep stride with Sam, you hung back with Dean. An idea had been brewing in your mind on the way over. And there was no way in heaven, hell, or purgatory that Dean wasn’t going to enjoy it. Or eventually take it further.

“Why are we here again?” Dean asked for the dozenth time.

“Because you were grumpy and dragging us all down with you.” You linked your arm with his. “Not everything in the world has to be for you, ya know.” With a smile, you bumped your body against his.

The frown dispersed a little. Not by much, but a little.

Up ahead there was another vegetable stand. One of dozens. But the purple plant on the front table caught your eye.

Time to enact your plan.

Pacing ahead, you went straight for it. “How much are the eggplants?” As the woman told you the amount, you weighed the plant in your hand. It had a healthy heft. Nice natural curve. And with the way you eyed Dean, he knew you were up to something. “I’ll take this one. Thank you.”

He caught up within a few steps. “Y/N-“

“Hmm…”

“What are you doing?”

“Making the day interesting.” You stood on your tiptoes so you could whisper in his ear. “I’m pretty sure you’re grumpy because you’re horny. Why not put your patience to the test.” Before he could grab for you, you’d passed him the bag and were headed down the row.

Again you easily outpaced him. Between a stand of squashes and a rare berries-only set-up, you saw a delectable array of fruit. Several caught your eye. One, in particular, would work perfectly with your plan. You’d save it for last. To keep Dean from seeing them, you loaded up his arms with apples.

He held onto them. Confused, his eyes flitted between the fruit and your chest. “Am I supposed to be comparing them to… something?”

“Head out of the gutter, dear. No. I was considering making you a pie, but if you’re not interested-“

Several more apples joined your selection. He paid for them himself. Then he almost dropped the bag as you held two plums in the palm of your hand. They bobbled between your fingers. Something in his throat constricted. The movements he was seeing looked familiar. Like something he was used to feeling lower on his body- Dean shuffled. It was difficult to adjust with two hands full of fruit.

You gave them to the man to add to your sale. A small gasp passed your lips. “Those look good.”

The farmer looked over the booth and smiled. “Ah, yes. Just picked them yesterday. Kind of sad lookin’, this late in the season. But sweet as can be. You can have one if you’d like.”

Eagerly you picked the reddest cherry you could see. You closed your mouth over it, stem and all. How did that trick go again?

Dean nearly dropped the bags. The concentration on your face could only mean one trick. And he personally knew what your mouth could do once you’d set your mind to a goal. He puffed out a strangled breath as you triumphantly pulled out the stem. It had a perfect knot in the center.

“That was good. I’ll take whatever two dollars can get me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He started bagging the cherries, mumbling to himself. “Haven’t seen that in years.”

At the far end of the booth was one basket of bright fuzzy fruit. You brought a peach close to your nose and inhaled its sweet scent. Such a small selection could only mean they were the last of the season. And hard to find in this climate. There were only about a dozen or so left. Mentally you calculated how many you’d need for the team.

“How many of those, ma’am?”

“Just two,” Dean said, coming up behind you.

“But what about Sam-“

“Sam can get his own peaches,” he growled into the spot behind your ear.

Mission accomplished.

“Pay the man so I can take you home.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Luckily Sam and Cas were done just as you’d made it back to the Impala, or they would have been walking home. They had to unpack the load themselves. Dean dragged you out of your seat before the there’d been a chance to beg otherwise.

He pinned you to the inside of his door, fumbling with the lock until it clicked, and then fumbling with your clothes until there wasn’t a stitch on your body.

“Do you know what you do to me, woman?” He nipped at the underside of your jaw, making you gasp. “That was quite the tease today. If I had any idea what you could suggest with a bunch of produce, I might have come along sooner.”

You giggled. “Just be glad they didn’t have pineapple. Then I’d have been too sweet to handle.” With a squeal, you fell on the bed as Dean spun you around.

“Never. You’re never too much for me. Now the other way around-“ Dean pulled you to the end of the bed and kneeled. You could only see the top half of his face over the top f your body. Those green eyes glowed with wild-like hunger. “Let me know if I become too much for you.”

As much as you wanted to poke “unlikely” at him, you were soon too busy fisting the sheets to sass back. You clamped your hand over your mouth. By now, Sam and Cas had to be done with the food. And there was a risk they could hear you. A sharp nip to the inside of your thigh changed your mind.

“Nah-ah, sweetheart. I don’t care if all of Kansas can hear you. You know what to do.” He groaned as you fisted your hand in his hair instead.

The obscene sounds that came from between your legs made you quake. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Dean was ravenous for you every hour of the day. He made good on that lust by devouring your peach like it was the last time he’d ever taste it. Wrecked, you bucked towards his face. Dean let you, only pinning you down when he realized you were getting close.

Whimpers, soft cries, loud shouts of his name, you gave it all. Then he clamped one arm down over your stomach. And he added slow curling fingers to his feasting. Your body dripped for him. He lapped and sucked up every drop loudly.

“So good, Dean. Please… so close-“

“Love tasting you like this sweetheart,” he replied while you writhed. “I might do this all night. Keep going until you can’t stand tomorrow. Then fuck you hard on my cock.”

You moaned loudly. Weakly, you tried to fight against the arm across your body.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Drenching my face until you can’t see straight.” He sucked hard on your clit, almost making you cum right then. “Or would you like cumming on my cock more? How hard do you think you made me, baby, and the market today? Hmm? Cucumbers to eggplants, how much?”

“Dean!” You laughed. Nothing like a vegetable reference to kill the mood. You swatted at the back of his head as he chuckled into your heat. “Don’t do that. I was so close.”

He crawled up your body just long enough to give you a searing kiss. “Sorry, baby. Had to get my revenge for that cherry trick somehow. I think we’re even now.” He sucked your nipples between his teeth before settling back between your legs.

The edge hadn’t disappeared. It had been waiting. Waiting for Dean to add another finger to the working your slit. And for him to work his tongue faster over your clit. Your toes cramped and seized as you called out his name. It sounded hoarse in the air, but that only sent him further into turning your bones to jello. The wave hit. Desperately you clawed at the sheets and his hand and the back of his head. Dean kept going. He kept going until your whimpers had mangled into whispers and your eyes were crossed under your eyelids. The world was fuzzy around the edges.

Dean’s warm body slid alongside yours on the bed. He placed sticky, sloppy kisses over your collarbone. Up your neck. Over your breasts.

“Still with me?”

“Mhmm. Still hungry?”

“For you? Always. Want my cock now?”

“Yes, please.”


End file.
